


Good As Gold

by Narry_dreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Kid-fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:17:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9479102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narry_dreamer/pseuds/Narry_dreamer
Summary: Their love for each other flows through them, is as obvious as the morning sun, as real as the grass.And it's so crazy because they’ve waited and waited for this, for starting a family together, and now it’s happening, and they just think, “we’re not qualified, we’re not ready”.- Or a fic where Harry and Niall adopt a little girl.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missingheadache](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingheadache/gifts).



> This is a birthday-fic for missing-headache. It's short and messy and not good at all, but this is my way to thank Jessica. For being lovely and gracious and kind and encouraging. For being an amazing writer - for sharing her words with us, for warming our hearts and brightening our days with them.
> 
> I wish you the happiest of birthdays and an amazing year, Jessica!

 

Harry’s phone vibrates in his pocket, and he almost ignores it, trying to shield himself from disappointment without Niall there to shelter him like he usually does. His hand betrays him though, and he’s already picked up the phone before he’s even really decided what he’s going to do.There’s a flicker of hope, a ray of sunshine that isn’t born yet, but it is there and he can feel it.

“Harry Horan-Styles?” he asks, his voice trembling a little, unsure if this is going to be the phone call that makes an end to the persistent uncertainty that’s taken over his life, or if it’s going to be the call that takes the last sliver of hope that he’s got left.

He doesn’t have to wait too long to find out, and a few minutes later he’s in his car, on his way to Niall’s office. He doesn’t even see how the golden beams of the sun are radiating all around after having dreadful clouds covering the sky for weeks, because all he can think of is their daughter, _their daughter_ , and how the tension will leach out of Niall when Harry tells him about the phone call.

He bursts into Niall’s office, happiness radiating off of him. His stride is light and carefree, his eyes are sparkling and a boyish grin is spreading on his cheeks.

Niall looks up from where he’s squinting at his laptop screen, his hair a mess from the many times he always run his hands through it. He smiles when he sees Harry, but it’s not just a smile, it’s in his eyes, and in the way his face changes into a vision of relaxed joy and unbridled joy, and Harry's heart hurts with love.

He gets up to greet Harry, and Harry’s got him enveloped in a hug immediately, and he’s laughing and crying at the same time with how happy he is. Niall seems to get what Harry isn’t able to say, and he holds Harry tight, whispering in his ear about how he knew everything was going to work out for them.

And Harry didn’t- he didn’t know, he was so scared and disappointed, and he was so close to giving up entirely, but now he’s so glad he listened to Niall when he said they should try it one more time, because now his heart’s beating so strongly for their little girl, the daughter that he hasn’t even met yet.

 

***

 

That night they look at the picture the social worker brought them that afternoon, a picture of a 2-year-old girl named Lucy with a dimpled grin, dark brown braids and eyes the colour of an ocean, crystal clear blue, a picture of the girl that’s going to be _their daughter_.

They read the file the social worker gave them, about how Lucy’s parents had died in a car crash, how their car had been crushed into a central barrier by a lorry, how her father had died on impact, and how they had been pinned by the collapsed roof for hours.

They read about the coma her mother had been in for a week, before she’d died during a surgery, the last drops of blood leaving her, carrying away the last bit of life left in her so she could finally be with her husband, leaving the little girl they’d both loved so much all alone in this world.

They cry about the pain the little girl in the picture must be in, and their heart hurts when they think about how everything that was her normal had been ripped away from her by one moment of someone else's carelessness.

They talk for hours in the days that follow, about what they think their life with Lucy will be like, and they know it won’t be anything like they’re imagining, but that doesn’t stop them from envisioning their future.

Their talk is littered with smiles, and hidden beneath it is their love, the gentle gaze of their eyes, the relaxed nature of their faces. The evidence of their listening is in what they say, their emotion in the silences. Their love for each other flows through them, is as obvious as the morning sun, as real as the grass.

And it's so crazy because they’ve waited and waited for this, for starting a family together, and now it’s happening, and they just think, “we’re not qualified, we’re not ready”.

 

***

 

The excitement’s been running through their veins ever since they found out they’d be parents, and the next few weeks are filled with joy and nervous anticipation. They prepare Lucy’s bedroom, painting the walls in a soft blue color and picking out furniture, and they take shopping trips, lots of them.

They make lists and they read every book about parenthood they can get their hands on. Nothing could have prepared them for the absolute wave of love and adoration that crashes into them the first time they meet Lucy though.

When she enters their home for the first time she’s hiding behind Hannah, their social worker, clutching to her hand like it’s a lifeline, and that’s when the enormity of it sweeps over them.

They realize that Lucy’s going to be the new centre point of their lives, that she needs love, warmth and protection. There’s going to be times when she’s sick, sad or afraid. She’ll need their help to learn, to grow into a happy and confident young lady. Times have changed for them, and they wouldn’t change it for the world.

 

***

 

They find out pretty soon that Lucy’s as stubborn as a 2-year-old can get, and that she wants to do everything by herself, that she’s not very good at sitting still for more than a minute, and that they’re going to have to potty-train her.

They find out that she hates haircuts and carrots and cauliflower (much to Harry’s annoyance), that she’s good at making friends, that she’s very creative and loves listening to music, and that she likes being read to.

But most of all, they find out that they love her, immediately and infinitely, and that every time she smiles at them the most perfect feeling they have ever known sweeps through them.

 

***

 

When they’d first talked about adopting an older child, they’d often worried that they would mourn having missed the firsts: the first toothless smile, the first time sitting up, the first crawling, the first steps, the first word...

But they have their own set of firsts. The first time Lucy stops calling them "Mr Niall” and “Mr Harry” and starts calling them papa and dad. And how she likes the sound of it, and for the next few days liberally sprinkles every sentence with it.

Or the first time she blurts out "I love you" as she runs off to go play with her friends in the park.

Or the first time she feels safe enough to whisper a painful secret in Harry’s ear when he’s tucking her in - a hurt she's never told anyone about before - trusting that he will help her heal.

Or the first time one of Niall’s employees comes into Niall’s office, notices the photographs of Lucy that he’s proudly put on his  desk, and asks, "Is that your daughter?" And he says, "Yes, yes she is," joy and happiness seeping out of him for everybody to see.

 

***

 

And it isn’t all sweetness and light, because Lucy faces challenges resulting from the losses she’s experienced; losing her parents and moving to homes of various relatives, to a foster home, and finally to their home. Her home.

They have some behaviour problems, anger outbursts, and nightmares. But they also have plenty of laughter, love, and a growing trust.

Each day they journey further into uncharted waters, and they find ways to make her face light up, perfect like the delicate flowers that started blooming just a few weeks ago.

 

***

 

Niall’s sitting on the the porch swing, gently swaying back and forth, waiting for Harry to come back from his run and for Lucy to wake up from her nap when he’s startled out of his thoughts by a stifled sob from the baby monitor.

He’s next to Lucy’s crib in a flash, pushing through the dull pain in his knee that’s almost always there, and she’s sitting up with a lost look on her face, her eyes dripping with tears and his heart aches with how much he loves this little girl.

He picks her up and he sobs into his chest like she’ll never stop, her hands clutching at his soft T-shirt. He holds her tightly, his arms like shields of love, whispering quiet reassurances in her hair. He rocks her slowly as her tears soak his chest. A tiny lapse lets her pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears, before she collapses against his chest again, just softly sobbing now.

Niall relaxes where he’s standing with her against his chest, willing his still tender knee to unwind, before sitting down in the rocking chair with Lucy on his lap, his arms squeezing her a fraction tighter when her howls of misery worsen.

That’s how Harry finds them when he comes home, Lucy buried safely into Niall’s chest, listening to his soft voice as he sings to her, clutching at his words as tightly as she’s clutching at his ches. He catches a glimpse of the way she’s looking at Niall, as if he’s the sun and the moon and the stars, and he knows they’re the luckiest.

 

***

 

Harry looks at where the sun is going down like a glowing fiery orb, surrounded by lingering threads of light that paint the sky with streaks of red and pink. He’s content to stay right where he is for a while, with a warm and heavy Lucy sleeping on his lap, safely tucked into his chest, and a sleepy Niall rolled up against his side.

The lazy wind pushes against the limber green branches of the oak tree in their backyard, and he treasures the peace and quiet that’s almost non-existent these days. Niall’s worn out after a long and busy week at work, and Lucy – well, let’s just say being a toddler and exploring the world is exhausting.

He should really get up to put Lucy down, but he doesn’t want to disturb the two of them, so he just leans back, one arm wrapped around Lucy’s back and the other curled around Niall, and being like this - it lights him up inside, gives him a serenity that he doesn't feel very often.

He’s just thinking about their weekend plans when Niall rouses, slowly and reluctantly. He blinks, closes his eyes, and blinks again. He sits up, careful not to disturb Lucy, dragging his feet off the couch and rubbing his knuckles onto his eyes.

He stretches his arms above his head and yawns, watching his husband and his daughter with a soft smile on his face, and Harry doesn’t even try to stop the sappy grin he returns it with.

“We should put her to bed,” Niall whispers, and he carefully stands, stumbling a little – and Harry isn’t really sure whether it’s because of his fatigue or because his knee is bothering him again.

He doesn’t say anything though, because he knows Niall will never admit to being in pain. He lets Niall take Lucy, and when Niall motions for him to come inside with them he shakes his head. “I’ve been with her all day, you go have some papa-Lucy time.”

Niall nods, leaning in close so that their foreheads are touching, before pressing a kiss to Harry’s lips that’s slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. He pulls away then and walks inside the house, looking over his shoulder to where Harry is slumped down.

Soft chords drift out of the window of Lucy’s bedroom, and Harry smiles at the sound. After a moment, he recognizes the tune, it’s a soft, slow version of the song Niall had written for their wedding day.

He doesn’t want to impose on their time together, so he stays right there, but he really likes this concert. He would have never imagined this song as a lullaby the first time he heard it, but it’s so fitting – that their song is now the song that guides their daughter into her sleep.

That night they have an early night, one that starts with tangled limbs and gentle kisses, and then turns into a fire that spreads throughout their entire body, with Niall’s hands wrapped around Harry’s waist, and Harry’s hands locked around Niall’s neck, pulling him down slightly. It’s passion, and it’s intense, intoxicating even – and tomorrow this will be the reason behind their grins.

 

***

 

There’s a soft, gentle rain dripping down their bedroom window when Niall wakes up, and he doesn’t immediately open his eyes, just lies there, taking in the sounds of the early morning.

It’s the sort of shivery weather that makes you want to crawl deep under the covers, the sort of weather that forces you to ward off the cold by wrapping yourself in the duvet, and he does, pulling up the covers to his chin.

He listens to the sweet, mellow ticking of the rain against the window, and he hopes it’s still early enough to enjoy the lilting and lulling calmness of the morning for a few ticks longer.

He breathes in the sweet fresh, clean, rain-washed air that drifts in through the open window, and he wants this moment to go on forever.

The bed is soft and warm, and Niall can feel Harry’s arm draped over him, more comforting that any blanket he’s ever had. Harry’s scent is floating in the air and up his nostrils, and it makes him feel safe and warm and happy.

He can feel Harry take a deep breath, and then he resettles, lifting his head. Niall isn’t sure; he still has his eyes closed, but he imagines Harry’s looking at him.

“Good morning,” he says, finally opening his eyes to look at where Harry’s smiling softly at him, and his heart flutters a little in the way it always does when he realizes how lucky he is.

Harry just grins in response, bending down to press a sloppy kiss to Niall’s lips. Just when Niall rolls over, the blankets tangled between them, he hears a door crack open and a pair of small footsteps coming down the hallway.

He disentangles himself from Harry’s embrace, sitting up against the headboard just when the door to their bedroom cracks open.

He looks at their daughter padding into the room, her inseparable stuffed monkey under her arm and her hair a mess, and he wonders how he ever got so lucky. He smiles wide, thinking of how incredibly simple their life is, simple, complicated, and amazing.

Lucy now has a home, and as he holds Lucy's small hands in his and breathes in her smell of strawberry shampoo and Suntan lotion and Play-Doh, he knows they have the family they were meant to have.

And it hasn’t always been like this. No, it’s taken them years to get where they are now, years in which his hope had been aborted bit by bit, years in which the hole in his chest had gotten bigger and bigger every time they were let down, every time he saw how close Harry was to giving up on his dream – on their dream – of having a family.

It didn’t go like they’d planned it, not at all, but that’s how life goes, isn’t it?

 


End file.
